


Seven Digits

by watanuki_sama



Category: Common Law
Genre: AU, M/M, Texting, Wesvis., Wrong number
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-12 23:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3359291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watanuki_sama/pseuds/watanuki_sama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A drunk text to the wrong number leads to a date on Valentine’s day. Wes still isn’t quite sure how that happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven Digits

**Author's Note:**

> That's write. I wrote a cheesy stupid Valentine's day fic. Because I could.
> 
> Also posted on FF.net under the penname 'EFAW' on 02.14.15.

_“Sometimes wrong numbers are the right numbers.”_  
 _—Cecelia Ahern, The Time Of My Life_

\---

The whiskey made everything a little fuzzy, so it took a few tries to get all the letters in the right order, but he finally managed and hit send.

>> I miss you.

Wes stared at the text and instantly regretted it. But it was too late to take it back, so he put his phone face-down on the counter and hoped she didn’t read it. He ordered another whiskey just in case she did.

Within five minutes, the phone vibrated on the counter. Wes stared at the tiny device and swallowed half the whiskey for courage. He didn’t want to pick it up. He could imagine what it would say, sweet and polite but very definitely firmly rejecting, because it was over and they were done.

The rest of the whiskey burned, liquid courage igniting his nerve, and he picked up his phone and opened the new text. For a moment, all he could do was stare at the words, his heart thudding painfully in his chest, and his throat felt tight.

>> _i miss you too_

He wanted it to be true. More than anything, he wanted it to be true.

But he knew it wasn’t.

With deliberate care, Wes carefully typed a new message. He had to erase it twice, because even drunk he refused to send a misspelled text, and it took him another five minutes to get the words down.

>>You are not Alex.

Almost instantly, it seemed, his phone vibrated in his hand, before he even had a chance to set it down.

>> _no i’m not ;)_

He scowled at his phone and the winking face that seemed to be mocking him. He signaled for another whiskey even as he started typing a new message with the same deliberate care.

>>Who are you?

>> _i’m travis who are you?_

Wes frowned down at the phone.

>>None of your business.

The next few messages Travis sent were full of bemused annoyance.

>> _dude, ur the one drunk texting me_

>> _at least, I assume ur drunk_

>> _why else would you randomly text me?_

>> _if ur not drunk then you need to learn about contact lists_

Wes frowned at the bubbles of words, fingers laboriously moving over the tiny keys.

>>You’re.

This time the reply was not as instantaneous.

>> _what?_

>>You’re. Not ‘ur’. 

>> _wow_

>> _ur pretty eloquent for a drunk guy_

Wes scowled at the phone and downed the last of his whiskey. The room was starting to tilt a little—or maybe it was him—so it was probably about time to call it a night.

Carefully, deliberately, he crafted one more message for his new friend.

>>Good night Travis. Go away.

Travis’s reply was just as quick as his previous ones.

>> _good night_

>> _take care_

A moment later, one last text arrived.

>> _sorry about alex, whoever they are_

Wes stared at the sentence, and his throat felt tight. He closed the phone without replying, because what was he supposed to say to something like that? Tossing a few bills onto the counter, he slowly climbed to his feet and made his way out of the hotel bar, moving carefully so he didn’t fall over his own feet.

In the elevator, someone had tacked up a big pink heart above the buttons for the floors. Wes glared at it, reminded suddenly of why he was in the bar drinking in the first place. Pushing the button for his floor more vehemently than warranted, he glared at the offending decoration like it had personally insulted him.

Stupid Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t even happening for another week but it had been in the stores for a month and now it was permeating everywhere, even professional, respectable hotels like this that should know better. Or maybe some kid, giddy and high on love, tacked the heart up there, and management just hadn’t taken it down yet.

Either way, it was just too much, and he wanted it to be gone.

Wes sighed and leaned his head against the wall, and he closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see the heart.

\---

Wes woke to a fierce pounding in his head and regret in his stomach. Groaning, he fumbled for the nightstand and his insistently buzzing phone. Who could possibly be calling him? He didn’t have court until later this morning, so no one from work should be calling him right now.

Bringing the phone to his face, Wes peered at the screen, blinking to clear his vision. Then he had to blink again, because he wasn’t sure he was actually seeing what he thought he was seeing. But no, the message on his screen didn’t change.

There were two text messages on his phone, both from the same number. One he didn’t recognize.

>> _wakey wakey, eggs and bakey_

>> _hope ur feeling better_

Wes stared at the screen in baffled confusion. It was probably a wrong number, he decided. Sitting up with a groan, he squinted at the screen.

>>Sorry. Wrong number.

Dropping the phone on the nightstand, sure the problem was solved, Wes eased himself out of bed. Maybe a hot shower would help ease last night’s imbibing. And god, he needed to brush his teeth.

When he emerged from the bathroom, wrapped only in a towel, his phone was merrily indicating he had new messages. Frowning, Wes picked up the device.

>> _really?_

the other number said.

>> _ur not the guy from last night?_

>> _alex’s ex?_

Wes had to sit down. What had he done last night, that a complete stranger knew about Alex? Taking a slow breath, both to keep from getting upset and also to help his headache, he crafted a reply.

>>Who are you?

The reply was instant, like the other end of the line was waiting for him to respond.

>> _i’m travis_

>> _we had this talk_

>> _last night_

>> _don’t you remember?_

>> _you drunk texted me_

Wes bristled.

>>I most certainly did not.

>> _dude you totally did_

>> _check your history my friend_

With much trepidation, Wes did, running through the logs. With every text, he winced a little more. Good god, how much _had_ he had to drink? It hadn’t felt like enough for him to start drunk-texting a stranger, but the evidence was in front of him.

He could clearly see _why_ he’d made the mistake. A month back, when he’d realized Alex had started dating again, he’d deleted her number from his contacts in a fit of pique, telling himself that if he had to work so hard to call Alex, then it would be easier to avoid doing just that. Not that typing seven digits was that much harder than pulling it up on his contacts, but he made the effort.

This…Travis’s number was the same as Alex’s, except the last two digits were transposed. Easy enough to misdial when he was a little bit drunk. That he could understand.

But the rest of it? Actually _engaging_ the stranger? That didn’t sound like him. He should have texted back the instant he realized it wasn’t Alex, an awkward apology buried under a sharp retort. _That_ sounded like him. Not… _this_.

He’d had an entire conversation he didn’t remember with a person he didn’t know. Over the phone. By text message.

And now that person was _continuing_ the conversation. Despite the obvious fact that it was a mistake in the first place. Wes didn’t know if he should be embarrassed by his own behavior or annoyed by Travis’s, though if he was going to be honest with himself he would probably go with the annoyance.

>>I’m sorry about last night.

It was almost painful to apologize, but it was necessary to lead into the next part. _He_ was the one who initiated the conversation, after all. Sighing, Wes sent the message, followed immediately by,

>>But please leave me alone now.

Before Travis could text anything back, Wes turned off his phone.

Then he bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

His headache raged, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the hangover or the texting fiasco he apparently indulged in last night.

Either way, he could tell this was going to be a crappy day.

\---

As it turned out, imbibing all that whiskey the night before he had to go into court was a _supremely_ bad idea. Wes popped ibuprofen (more than was technically recommended, if he was going to be honest here) and downed about three bottles of water before the day was out.

When he finally emerged from the courtroom into the sun, he took a breath and told himself it was almost over. Just had to head back to the office and file some papers, and then he could go back to the hotel.

He absently turned on his phone as he was rummaging for his keys. Then he almost dropped the phone as the device exploded with buzzing, alerting him of new texts. He frowned, unable to think of who could possibly be texting him. And then he looked at the screen and the frown deepened for entirely different reasons.

Apparently his new phone buddy Travis hadn’t gotten the message that Wes wanted to be left alone. Or he simply didn’t care. Because there were a half dozen new messages on Wes’s phone from the other man. Nothing important, either, just mundane, stupid messages.

>> _having french toast for lunch_

>> _gotta love american diners_

>> _breakfast for lunch, greatest invention ever_

>> _what are you having?_

>> _you do eat lunch right?_

>> _not just alcohol?_

Wes stared at the messages and seriously debated just deleting them from both his phone and his mind. There was no reason to continue this conversation when he’d very clearly stated that he wanted to be left alone.

Yes. That’s what he’d do. He’d delete the messages and then he’d move on with his life, and he’d never think about Travis or the stupid, drunken message he’d tried to send to Alex last night.

His thumb hovered over the delete button, ready to dispose of all the texts.

His phone buzzed again with a new message.

>> _hey buddy you alive?_

Wes blinked and decided he really had to respond to that one, at least.

Tucking his briefcase under his arm, Wes’s thumbs moved over the tiny buttons, and he tried to impart as much annoyance as he could through the screen.

>>You’re not leaving me alone.

The reply was instant.

>> _oh good you are alive_

>> _where you been all day?_

A part of Wes winced at the poor grammar. A part of Wes was extremely annoyed that Travis wouldn’t stop texting him.

And a part of him was mildly amused at the other man’s persistence. Wes moved out of the way, leaning against the rail as he composed a reply.

>>I was in court.

This time the reply was slower to come.

>> _in court_

The repetition _felt_ blank and flat, the tone of someone who was trying to process what they’d just heard and was buying time before they had to respond. Travis’s next reply, when it came, made Wes’s lips quirk up at the corners.

>> _ur a criminal then?_

More than a little amused, Wes typed back his reply.

>>No. I’m not.

>> _oh thank god_

The relief was palpable even through the letters, though Wes didn’t understand the reason until the next few texts.

>> _i’m a cop_

>> _so it’d be awkward to flirt with a criminal_

Biting his lip to hide a smile, Wes’s thumbs danced.

>>I’m a lawyer, actually.

Again, a pause as though the man on the other end of the line was taking time to process Wes’s words.

>> _you know_

>> _not sure that’s much better_

>> _cops and lawyers_

>> _almost as bad as cops and criminals_

Wes snorted, shaking his head.

>>Goodbye, Travis.

Right before he tucked his phone into his pocket, one last text came in from Travis.

>> _talk to u later_

Despite himself, Wes couldn’t quite bite down the smile on his lips as he put his phone away. Pushing off from the railing, he moved down the steps, feeling lighter than he had in a while.

A cop, huh?

\---

He was in the middle of dinner at the hotel bar, picking listlessly at his Caesar salad at a corner table with papers spread all around him. The other booths were full of people just as quietly absorbed in their own meals, trying to pretend the rest of the room didn’t exist. Hotels weren’t exactly known as great places to meet people, and this one tended to cater to traveling businessmen. They were all alone and pretending they were fine with it.

It was almost a relief when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Absently, Wes nibbled on a leaf as he pulled the device out, and he couldn’t honestly say he was surprised when he saw a familiar number on the screen.

>> _what’s ur name?_

Travis texted, all sloppy spelling and a distinct lack of capital letters. Wes should have been annoyed that this man just wouldn’t stop messaging him. But honestly, at this particular moment, surrounded by lonely people eating solitary little meals, Wes grasped the contact greedily.

That didn’t mean he was just going to give in to Travis’s game, though.

>>Why should I tell you?

>> _i’m curious_

>> _we’re bonding_

>> _i already shared my name you know_

Smirking, Wes crunched a crouton and imparted as much playfulness into his response as he could, considering the medium.

>>I’m not telling.

>> _fine_

>> _i’ll just call you lonely hearts club_

>> _lhc for short_

>> _that’s what i have you saved as_

Wes felt a little flutter he couldn’t explain. Travis saved his number? A guy he didn’t know, someone who drunk-texted him last night? That was…Wes wasn’t sure what that was.

After deleting Alex from his contacts, Wes had exactly five numbers saved in his phone. Four of them were from work. The last was his mother.

Wes wasn’t one to make friends easily and save the numbers of strangers. Travis, apparently, was. Still, it made something warm and sentimental glow in his chest.

Wes squashed it like a bug.

>>That’s ridiculous.

he blustered, munching on another crouton. Somehow, he doubted that would be enough to deter the other man.

He wasn’t disappointed.

>> _oh it is lhc?_

>> _come on lhc, aren’t you a little flattered?_

>> _cool guy like me hanging out with a square like you, lhc_

Wes chuckled, shaking his head as he texted back. His paperwork lay abandoned on the table.

>>You’re ridiculous. 

>> _oh am i lhc?_

>> _it’s okay to admit it lhc_

>> _lhc, i’m amazing_

The short bark of laughter that came out of Wes surprised him. More surprising was the amusement he felt at the male on the other side of the screen, rather than annoyance. Travis managed to make him laugh. That was something special right there.

He gave in.

>>Wes. My name is Wes.

This time the pause was long enough for Wes to finish most of his salad before his phone buzzed.

>> _wes is a boys name_

His chest pinched a little; the smile at the corner of his mouth dropped.

>>Is that a problem?

>> _heck no man_

>> _im an equal opportunity lover_

>> _what are you wearing ;)_

Wes had to put his phone down and bite his lip to compose himself. It wasn’t _anything_ , it was just stupid harmless flirting with a stranger (flirting Wes was apparently being semi-accomplished at, if Travis’s continual interest was any judge), and yet it was like a sunbeam had burst through an overcast sky. He didn’t even know he’d been missing this sort of lighthearted contact with someone else until he had it.

He busied his hands with gathering his papers up, but the corners of his mouth curled up. It started out as a smile, but by the time he picked his phone up it was a full-fledged smirk.

>>I’m wearing a suit.

>> _what?_

>> _suits aren’t sexy_

>> _:(_

Wes snorted, shaking his head. He packed up his briefcase, trying to formulate a response. He hadn’t flirted in so long, he wasn’t quite sure how to proceed. So he took Travis’s question and sent it back.

>>What are you wearing?

Almost like Travis was waiting for that question in particular, the response came back in a second.

>> _nothing_

>> _I’m getting in the shower_

>> _;)_

Wes had to cover his face with his hand and take another moment to compose himself.

>>Well, have fun.

he texted back.

>> _i will ;)_

Shaking his head, Wes chuckled to himself, waving for the check. Maybe it was because it wasn’t face-to-face, but Wes was almost comfortable talking to Travis. It was, he mused, not such a bad feeling.

\---

>> _people suck_

Wes studied the text for the fifth time in as many minutes, wondering why Travis, so cheerful and upbeat in their previous interactions, would send a message like that.

It really wasn’t any of his business, Wes told himself for the fifth time in as many minutes. Travis was a stranger, there was no reason to care. Absolutely no reason, Wes thought, even as he stared at his phone.

Wes frowned, tapping his pen against the file in front of him. He had cases he needed to work on and a meeting with a client in an hour he had to prepare for. He didn’t have time to worry about the man on the other end of his phone.

“Get back to work,” he scolded himself, bending over his desk. He had more important things to focus on.

He managed to stare at the page for three whole minutes before his eyes flicked back to his phone. Biting his lip, Wes swiped his finger across the screen, bringing Travis’s text back to life.

>> _people suck_

Wes agreed with that sentiment wholeheartedly most of the time, but why did Travis feel that way?

“I’m never going to get any work done,” he rationalized, picking up the phone. “Not until I figure out what’s going on. So I might as well.” Yes, that sounded like a plan. It was just for his own productivity. Not because he _cared_ or anything. Absolutely.

>>What happened?

It was a few minutes before Travis texted back, and for a moment Wes could only stare at the reply.

>> _who says anything happened?_

Wes could almost feel the annoyed sarcasm dripping off the words. Definitely _not_ the Travis he’d been texting for the past few days.

( _But how well do you really know him?_ a snide voice in the back of his brain sneered. _As you keep pointing out, he’s a complete stranger._

Wes pushed the voice aside.)

>>You seem upset.

he responded delicately, not pushing for anything. If Travis wanted to talk about it, he would; if not, Wes would just have to get over it. Which shouldn’t be so hard. Travis was just a guy that Wes was curious about more than he ought to be. He’d manage.

And there was no reason for Travis to decide to spill everything to Wes, anyway. It was a two-way street—Wes was just as much a stranger to Travis as the other way around. And most people didn’t just unload their baggage to random people.

Wes gritted his teeth and bent over his paperwork again. Whatever. It didn’t matter. He didn’t care. He _didn’t_. He was just going to get his work done and that would be that.

And yet, when he was gathering his stuff for his client meeting and his phone buzzed, he almost leapt upon the device. He refused to look at that reaction too closely. He checked his watch, decided he had enough time, and sat down to read.

>> _i had a date for valentines_

Travis said.

>> _andrea. met her at the coffee shop by work_

>> _she’s a computer programmer, works in video games_

>> _great smile, great laugh_

>> _and she looked fantastic in a halter top_

Wes, who hadn’t had much of any experience meeting people in coffee shops, especially random people he later wanted to date, carefully questioned, 

>>She sounds nice.

Wes could almost hear the wistful sigh in Travis’s reply.

>> _she was nice_

A long pause.

>> _her boyfriend thought so too_

Oh.

>>I see.

>> _what is it about me?_

Travis asked, and some part of Wes wished he could actually see the other man right now, because text messages were so unhelpful when it came to bodily and vocal cues. It was a lot harder to react appropriately when all he got were words on a screen.

>> _what is it about me that makes people think i’d be okay with cheating?_

Travis sent a moment later.

>> _do i really look like that kind of guy?_

Wes’s fingers hovered over the buttons, and he finally replied with the truth.

>>I really don’t know.

He waited, almost holding his breath, hoping he hadn’t misstepped and made Travis feel worse.

>> _haha_

Wes’s stomach clenched, but before he could beat himself up too much, another text sent his phone buzzing.

>> _that wasn’t sarcasm_

>> _i actually laughed a little_

>> _thanks_

And Wes relaxed, glad he didn’t upset Travis enough that the other man wanted nothing to do with him anymore. 

>>Glad I could help.

>> _how’d you manage that?_

>> _making me feel better_

This time, the corner of Wes’s mouth curled up a little as he typed his reply.

>>I really don’t know.

>> _haha_

>> _XD_

>> _you know what?_

>> _i kind of like you wes_

And Wes smiled to himself, and didn’t look too deeply at the warm glow of satisfaction in his belly.

\---

Friday dawned bright and sunny and utterly festooned with hearts. Valentine’s day wasn’t until tomorrow, but people at work were putting their all in, getting ready for the holiday.

Wes hated every second. There were hearts everywhere, and at least three women had given him chocolate. He’d politely turned down every one, but that wasn’t going to stop them. At the water cooler and in the break room, he had to listen to his coworkers gossip about all their plans for the next day, sounding excited until they noticed him and cut off abruptly, as though divorce was something contagious and not to be spoken of.

By lunch, Wes was ready to lock his door and not come out the rest of the day. He’d hoped that his coworkers, smart people that they were, would be professional and leave this thing out of the workplace. So much for that.

Wes sighed and popped another couple of aspirin, rubbing his temples. He wondered if he could fake being sick and skip out of work early. Not his usual practice, but this day was just wearing at him.

It wasn’t like there were a lot of memories associated with Valentine’s day. He and Alex never did anything super fancy or huge. But every year he’d buy her roses, and they’d cook together, a simple meal of pasta and garlic bread, because on their first date they’d gone to this little Italian place and the pasta would remind them of that. And after, they would dance in the living room, her face bright and flush with laughter, and he would hold her close and—

Okay. So there _some_ memories associated with the holiday. But it wasn’t that.

It was just that everyone was talking about what they were doing with their partner/spouse/significant other/whatever, and every stupid heart he saw had something on it like ‘Be mine!’ or ‘I love you’ and this entire damn holiday revolved around _not being alone_ when all Wes had to look forward to was sitting in his hotel room all night and probably ordering room service so he wouldn’t have to face the couples in the restaurant.

This was almost as bad as Christmas. Nothing quite topped Christmas as the worst holiday to be alone at, but Valentine’s day was coming in a close second.

He was lonely. There it was. He was lonely because he was alone. It wasn’t something he’d ever admit to anyone else, but here in his office…

Wes sighed again and ran his hands over his face. When he pulled away, his eye caught his phone, sitting on the corner of his desk, and he paused.

He was lonely, yes. But maybe this year he wasn’t _completely_ alone…

Slowly, not quite certain he was going to do what he was thinking of doing, Wes reached out, picking up his phone. He scrolled through his history, bringing up a number he knew by heart now but had never called, and for a long minute he just sat there, staring at it.

It wasn’t like Travis would care. Travis was just some guy who was getting a kick pestering a lonely soul as Valentine’s day approached. There was absolutely no reason to talk to him.

But Wes had been saying that a lot this week, and he still kept conversing with the man.

>>I hate Valentine’s day.

His thumbs hovered over the ‘Send’ button for an infinity before he finally pressed it. He waited for regret to sink in. Surprisingly, it didn’t.

Sighing, Wes set his phone aside and pulled a file in front of him.

He was staring absently at the page in front of him when his phone buzzed. Since he wasn’t even pretending to work, he picked up the device instead.

>> _hooray!_

Wes stared.

>>What?

He just confessed to hating a nationally-pervasive holiday and Travis said _hooray_? What kind of reaction was that?

>> _you realize this is the first time you’ve texted me_

>> _this is progress!_

Ah. Now that he thought about it, this _was_ the first time, since that initial misdialing, where he’d contacted Travis first. All other times it had been Travis initiating the conversation.

To his surprise, he found himself smirking at his phone, buoyed ever-so-slightly by the other man’s enthusiasm. He wondered if this was what Travis had felt the other day when talking about his date for the holiday. If somehow talking to someone unrelated to the problem made things better.

>> _so what happened?_

Travis asked. 

>>Nothing happened.

>> _then why hate on v-day?_

Wes sighed, wondering how he could possibly explain everything that bothered him about this holiday through text message. He didn’t want to start ranting and end up sounding like some lonely loser who was bitter about being single (even if that’s what he was). 

Even as he told himself he wouldn’t say anything, his fingers were moving.

>>I just hate it.

>>It’s an over commercialized holiday made up by the greeting card and chocolate companies to sell romance as the be all end all.

>>Meanwhile single people are made to feel stupid and worthless for not having anyone to be with and you end up sitting alone in your room because you don’t want 

>>to face all those happy couples that will just remind you how alone you are.

It was almost cathartic, vomiting it all out in words. Wes fell back in his chair when it was done, breathing heavily like he’d actually exerted himself. He felt…lighter, somehow. Not _better_ , necessarily, but lighter, like this had literally been weighing him down and he’d just released some of it into the air. Maybe there was something to what Alex had always said, that bottling things up wasn’t healthy.

After a long minute of inactivity, his phone buzzed again.

>> _wow_

That was all Travis said. Wes frowned at the words, waiting for more. Sure enough…

>> _breakup with alex was bad huh?_

Wes hesitated only a moment before replying. He’d already spewed this much, what was a little more? It wasn’t like he’d ever meet Travis.

>>Divorce, actually.

>> _ah_

>> _how long?_

It still ached to think about it. No longer the sharp, painful sting of abandonment and rejection, but a dull throbbing in his chest. Wes had to take a breath before he could answer.

>>Over a year now.

>> _and clearly you haven’t moved on_

>> _unless you drunk text all your ex wives_

Despite the content of their current conversation, the corner of Wes’s mouth twitched up, ever so slightly.

>>No, just the one.

>> _well then_

>> _you know_

>> _i could make you forget all about your ex ;)_

>> _and what a coincidence!_

>> _i happen to be free on valentines day!_

The mirth Wes felt drained away at the last two texts, leaving him staring at his phone feeling numb and sad. He swallowed hard, bracing himself for a blow that wasn’t coming from the outside, but in.

>>You don’t want to meet me.

>>You’ll just be disappointed.

>> _i’m sure i won’t_

>>You will.

>>Everyone is.

Wes shut off his phone before he could see what Travis said to that.

\---

He turned on his phone when he got to the hotel, and wasn’t surprised in the slightest to see a string of texts from Travis. Luckily, it wasn’t a response to what he’d said earlier. Well. Not quite.

>> _we should get together for v-day_

>> _have singles appreciation day together_

>> _call it brokenheartsville_

>> _you and me lhc_

>> _what do you say?_

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Wes shook his head, mildly amused by the other male’s tenacity. _Very_ mildly. (And more than a little relieved Travis didn’t bring up his last text. _That_ was a bucket of worms he didn’t want to get into with someone he’d never actually met.)

>>Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose? We’d look like a couple.

>> _yes but we wouldn’t be_

Travis responded instantly, yet again a time when he’d apparently been waiting for Wes’s response. Either Travis was an incredibly fast texter or he was more invested in conversing with Wes then he should be.

>> _we wouldn’t be a couple so we’d be rubbing it in the face of all the stupid happy couples out there_

>> _it’d be perfect_

Wes snorted to himself, shaking his head.

>>That’s stupid.

>> _it’s genius is what it is_

>>I have plans.

>> _no you don’t you big liar_

>>How do you know?

>> _if you had plans you wouldn’t be texting me_

Well. That was true enough.

Wes sighed.

>>I’m not in the mood, Travis. Leave it alone.

There was a long, thoughtful sort of pause, if a pause in a text-based conversation could be really considered _thoughtful_.

>> _fine_

>> _did i tell you about this idiot i chased down today?_

>> _it’s amazing some people ever made it to adulthood_

Wes tipped back onto the bed and let himself be swept away by minutia, and he definitely didn’t let Travis’s suggestion linger in his mind at all. Not even a little.

\---

Saturday loomed sunny and bright. Wes groaned and threw his arm over his face and cursed the world. He was petty enough to wish clouds and rain on people, today of all days. He wished there was a way he could just close his eyes and skip this entire day, but alas, there was no fast-forward in his life. He had to suffer Valentine’s day like any other.

At least the truly awful couple-y stuff wouldn’t really happen until later this evening. That was _something_ to make this stupid day a little less awful.

With a great sigh, Wes pulled himself upright, glaring at the sun outside. Stupid sun, stupid bright happy day for all the bright happy people out there.

Stupid Valentine’s day.

\---

“I’m a bitter, miserable, lonely bastard,” Wes announced to the empty hotel room when he returned from his grocery run. This was a completely unsupported theory with no evidence, but Wes was pretty sure it was true. All he’d done at the grocery store was glare at the candy and cards and scowl at anyone holding hands or standing too close.

Basically, he missed Alex, even though the most intimate moment they’d shared lately was when she came home last month while he was watering the lawn and she offered him a glass of ice water when she went inside.

But no, even that wasn’t right. He didn’t miss Alex. They’d just drifted apart, and they hadn’t been able to get back to a place where they could stay together anymore. The fact was, he missed _being_ with Alex. He missed being in a relationship and sharing things with another person, moments of his day and nights spent curled together and waking up in the morning to smile at her. He missed being able to sit and talk for hours about nothing, or lounging in silence and never feeling alone.

He missed Alex because she was the only one he’d ever had that with, but he knew they weren’t ever going to be at that place again. He accepted that, had accepted that a long time ago.

He just really wanted to be in a relationship again, something special like what he had with Alex, and Valentine’s day was just bringing that longing out full force.

Unbidden, his hand brushed his jacket pocket, touching his phone.

_we should get together for v-day_

Scowling, he shook his head. No. Getting together with Travis for Valentine’s day just so he wouldn’t be alone reeked of desperation, and Wes wasn’t desperate. He was _fine_.

It was just this day, was all. Everything would go back to normal once this stupid holiday was over.

\---

Wes was honestly, legitimately thinking about going to bed at seven in the evening because his hotel room was small and there was nothing to do, and he didn’t want to venture downstairs into the romance-filled hotel restaurant. In honor of the holiday, the restaurant had decorated each table with a red candle, and they’d done something to the lights so they glowed a gentle rose color, and mostly it just made Wes want to bury his head in the sand. If he went to sleep now, he would probably wake up at two in the morning, but at least then Valentine’s day would be over.

So he was sitting there, debating the merits of being up at two versus sitting in his empty hotel room for the rest of the night, and seriously leaning towards the former.

And then his phone buzzed.

Wes knew who it would be without looking, and he thought about simply ignoring it. He’d already told Travis he wasn’t interesting in going out tonight. He didn’t want to face all those couples. So he closed his eyes as his phone kept buzzing, a quick succession as texts came in.

It didn’t matter. It _didn’t_. Travis was just a guy, and he meant nothing to Wes. So he was just going to ignore it, and get up, and he would go brush his teeth.

He got up and went to the desk.

Just to tell Travis to leave it alone, that was all. He wasn’t going out. That was final.

Except when he opened the texts, he couldn’t help but smile.

>> _You’re invited to Single’s Appreciation Night!_

>> _Marta’s Kitchen at 8PM._

>> _Come alone or don’t come at all._

>> _RSVP Not Required._

_Look_ , Wes thought with a smile on his lips and mild fondness in his chest. _He even used proper spelling and punctuation. For once._

>>I’m not going out, Travis.

>> _Sure you will._

>>How do you know?

>> _I’ll woo you out with proper grammar and capital letters and stuff._

Wes snorted.

>>That’s ridiculous.

>> _You only say that because it’s working._

Wes was mildly charmed by the proper grammar and capital letters. Wes was not going to admit that.

>>It’s not working because there’s nothing to work. I’m not going out.

>> _You should._

>> _There’s no reason to be lonely tonight, Wes._

Throat tight, Wes typed with shaky fingers.

>>What are you doing, Travis?

>> _Trying to get you to come out. Single’s Appreciation Night._

>> _We never have to see each other after this if you don’t want._

>> _Just one night, man._

>>How do you even know I live near enough to meet you?

>> _Area codes, man._

>> _I’m a cop, remember?_

>> _: )_

Wes put his head in his hands and laughed helplessly to himself, and just like that, decided he was going to go.

Like Travis said. There was no reason to be lonely if he didn’t have to.

\---

It took Google Maps and thirty minutes to find the little hole-in-the-wall restaurant called Martha’s Kitchen. From what he could tell, it was the sort of place most people knew by word-of-mouth, and apparently it had amazing breadsticks.

Like most every other restaurant tonight, from the outside it looked completely full. Wes stood across the street, fingers running over the phone in his pocket. It wasn’t too late. He could still call the whole thing off, text Travis and tell him that Wes most definitely wasn’t coming out and he should just give up now.

And then he saw him.

It _had_ to be him, lounging against the decorative pillar at the corner of the building. Unless there was someone else waiting outside this particular restaurant at three minutes to eight, it had to be Travis.

Even from here, Wes could tell he was an attractive man, and he knew from their conversations that Travis was easy-going, had a way with people, and liked to flirt. Why would someone like that possibly want to spend time with a bitter, lonely divorcee?

It didn’t make any sense, and Wes didn’t like things that didn’t make sense. He needed to turn around and get out of here, right now.

Instead, he pulled out his phone, and even though his stomach was all knotted up and he kept hitting the wrong buttons, he typed

>>Look up.

The man leaning against the pillar pulled his phone out, only confirming that this _was_ Travis.

Then he looked up, and he saw Wes, and he smiled, and a warm flush settled over Wes like a scarf. He took a breath, shoved his phone in his pocket, and crossed the street.

“Wes?” Travis asked, as soon as he got in range. Wes just gave a small, short nod, because his throat was dry and he was afraid his tongue would stick to the roof of his mouth. Which was…stupid. This was the first time he’d met Travis (texted conversations didn’t count). Wes just had to treat Travis like anyone else he was meeting for the first time.

But Wes hadn’t gone out with anyone like this in a long time, not since Alex, and Travis was a very attractive man. Wes was not immune.

The other male looked him up and down, grin somehow shifting into a leer without his lips ever moving. “I was wrong.” He clicked his teeth, looking back up to meet Wes’s eyes. “Suits can be _damn_ sexy.”

Wes flushed, which just made Travis smirk. He coughed to try and cover it up. “I’m Wes Mitchell. It’s nice to meet you.”

Looking amused, Travis took his hand. “Travis Marks.” He held Wes’s hand longer than was strictly necessary, looking him over. Not the drawn-out up-and-down look he’d done before, but a more contemplative look. “You know, I think I’ve seen you before.”

“You have?” Travis was still holding onto his hand. Wes wasn’t sure what it said that he didn’t immediately pull away.

“Yeah. At the courthouse.” He shrugged, gently taking his hand back, and Wes was a little disappointed. Maybe.

(He was simply touch-starved because he didn’t like people and it had been a long time since Alex, that was _all_.)

“I’ve never seen you,” Wes responded with a frown. To be fair, he never paid much attention to people in the hallways, unless he knew them. If they weren’t related to his case, they weren’t generally that important. And Travis had never been part of any of his cases. Wes was sure he’d remember.

Travis just shrugged again, grinning easily. “That’s ‘cause I’m stealth, man. Like a ninja. I’m better in the shadows.”

Wes snorted, one side of his mouth turning up. “I’d like to see that.” Travis had a _presence_ , even just standing out here on the sidewalk. Wes didn’t see how he could be _stealthy_ when he stood out so much.

The other male just waggled his eyebrows. “I could show you, you know. Just how much _better_ I am in the shadows.”

Wes was getting used to Travis’s innuendos. He hardly flushed at all that time.

“Maybe next time.” At Travis’s long, slow leer, he realized what he said, and quickly hurried to cover himself. “Do you ever plan on us going inside?” he asked primly, drawing himself up. “Or are you just going to stand out here ogling me and making suggestive comments?”

“Is that an option?” Travis’s eyebrows went up. “I didn’t know ogling was an option.”

“It’s not.” Wes stuck his nose in the air and stomped past Travis, into the restaurant.

For a second, he was afraid he’d made a grave miscalculation, that Travis would walk away because there was no way meeting Wes could possibly match up with what he must have expected to happen.

But then Travis laughed and followed him inside, and Wes smiled to himself.

\---

The table they were led to was decked out with the same cute Valentine festivities as anywhere else, but for the sake of not being a bitter miserable bastard, Wes tried to ignore the candles and the tiny cup holding one delicate rose. He sat across from Travis and tucked his napkin in his lap and told himself this _wasn’t a date_. Definitely not. Just two men meeting for the first time and going to dinner. Nothing weird about that.

“Have you been here often?” he asked, picking up the menu. He didn’t wince at the Italian fare and he didn’t cringe when he saw spaghetti and meatballs (they had spaghetti and meatballs, sharing a plate like Lady and the Tramp, and Alex laughed when a noodle flicked sauce onto his nose and he thought she was gorgeous—)

“Loads of times,” Travis chirped, not even picking up the menu. He slouched casually in his chair, eyes roaming the room even though his attention was focused on Wes. Cop instincts. “My sister owns the place.”

“Your sister?”

“Well, foster sister, _technically_.” Travis looked at him, grinned. “I’m practically a celebrity here.”

Wes snorted and buried his face in the menu.

They made small talk until the waiter arrived. To Wes’s surprise, it was easy to talk to Travis. He had this way of smiling and giving his attention that made Wes slowly relax and unwind some of the tenseness in his spine, and when Wes said something snippy or brusque, he just responded in kind, which was…pretty fantastic, actually. Wes had long ago stopped counting how many times people got frosty because of something he said, inadvertently sharp without meaning it. But Travis took it and rolled with it and Wes appreciated him for that.

Wes couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a good time with someone else. Not since Alex, at least.

Maybe coming out tonight hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.

\---

It was so easy to talk to Travis, they ended up talking for over an hour. They talked about everything under the sun—work, home, personal lives. Travis talked about an impressive string of girlfriends he never seemed to click with; Wes managed a brief conversation about Alex before changing the subject. They had a heated discussion about law and the faults and limits of the system, which Wes quite enjoyed, and they ended up getting dessert so they could continue the debate without getting up.

Wes was so into the conversation that he hardly noticed anyone else in the room. All things considered, the night could have been a lot different, but Wes…he really enjoyed himself.

“I really enjoyed myself,” he announced as they finally left the restaurant.

Travis chuckled, tucking his hands in his pockets and strolling beside him. “Well, I’m glad I wasn’t a dud for company. Win for me, then.”

“No, no, you were great. You could probably make anything entertaining.” Wes waved a hand, and blamed the two glasses of wine he’d ordered for the honesty pouring out of his mouth. “But _I_ enjoyed myself. I didn’t think I would. It’s _Valentine’s Day_. Second hardest holiday to be alone.”

“What’s the first?”

“Christmas. Definitely Christmas.”

A thoughtful pause. “Yeah, okay, I guess I can see that.” Wes wasn’t looking, but he could hear the smile in Travis’s voice. “Glad I could oblige, then.”

_Me too_ , Wes thought, but those words he kept from escaping. Instead, he clapped a hand on Travis’s shoulder and said, “Thanks for inviting me out.”

“Hey, you’re the one who decided to show up anyway.” Travis reached up, patting Wes’s hand. “Maybe I’m the one who should be thanking _you_.”

Travis let his hand linger, and Wes didn’t pull away. That…meant something.

Wes let his hand stay where it was another ten steps to his car, and when he finally pulled away it was reluctantly. Swallowing, he shoved his hands in his pocket, pretending his skin didn’t tingle where Travis had touched him.

“So,” he said.

“So,” Travis echoed, mimicking Wes’s nonchalant hands-in-his-pockets vibe. But the air between them crackled like lightning, and it didn’t seem casual at all.

Wes coughed. “I, um, guess I should be going…end of the night and all…”

The corner of Travis’s mouth quirked. “Let me guess. You’re the guy who lingers after every date, not quite sure what to do to end it, right?”

“I feel like I should be offended,” Wes said, narrowing his eyes. “For your information, I’ve been on plenty of dates that ended _spectacularly_.”

“Oh really.” And all of a sudden Travis was close, leaning right into his personal space so there were only a couple of inches separating them. “Well then. Maybe you should show me, hmm?”

There were a lot of reasons, he rationalized later. It was Valentine’s day, and he was lonely, and Travis was such good company with his husky voice and charming smile and those deep blue eyes you could fall into. And of course, he could always blame it on the two glasses of wine, even though two glasses wasn’t _quite_ enough to lower his inhibitions like that.

But in the end, what it came down to when he closed the gap and pressed his lips to Travis’s, was that he wanted to. Plain and simple. He wanted to kiss Travis, so he did.

Travis kissed back. It wasn’t a battle—it was an exploration, two people who barely knew each other mapping out mouths with tongues and bodies with hands. Wes’s fingers skimmed over Travis’s hipbones, following the curve of his spine, and Travis’s tongue danced across the roof of his mouth, sending shivers down his spine.

Wes didn’t know who broke away first, but it probably didn’t matter because it wasn’t like they went far, leaning in and breathing each other’s breaths.

“I thought,” he murmured, hands clinging to Travis’s shoulders like he would float away if he let go. “I thought we were having Single’s Appreciation night.”

“I am,” Travis mumbled back, nosing along his cheekbone. “I’m appreciating the fact that you’re so very single.” He nuzzled under Wes’s ear, breath hot and heavy on his skin, and Wes trembled. “And I’m single too. Hey Wes, let’s be single together.” He did something sinful with his tongue, and Wes’s head fell back with a moan.

He should have been pushing Travis away, regaining his distance and balance.

Instead, he let himself be drawn in, and he just clung to Travis that much tighter.

\---

The drive to Wes’s hotel took forever, but the elevator ride passed in a flash. Wes could barely wait to get into the room before he was falling onto Travis, hands greedy and mouth devouring. Travis met him every inch, and it was a struggle that could only end with both of them winning.

There were a lot of excuses Wes could make for this. He could blame it on the alcohol, two glasses of wine with dinner that tipped his inhibitions a little out of control, even though that had never been a problem in his life. He could blame it on his divorce and the bitterness that rose inside him every time he thought of the way things ended, or maybe on the loneliness and how he wanted to fill the empty space in his bed and the empty ache in his heart even for just one night.

He could turn it around, blame it on _Travis_ , say it was the man’s charming smile and laughing, dancing eyes and the smooth way he could turn anything into a line and he got sucked in, couldn’t seem to resist it and that’s why he ended up falling into bed with the man.

He could blame it on a lot of things, but the fact of the matter was, Wes wanted to. Plain and simple as all that. He _wanted_ to do this, so he didn’t fight it when Travis slipped his jacket off and tugged at his buttons. In fact, he was the one who ended up pulling Travis to the bed and fumbling with the man’s belt.

“I don’t usually do this,” he confessed, giving up on the belt in order to tug Travis’s shirt off. “This really isn’t like me at all.”

“Luckily for you, I do this all the time,” Travis murmured, easily taking care of Wes’s belt as well as his own. He leaned forward, nibbling at Wes’s ear, and after that there wasn’t much talking at all.

It was hot, and fast, and needy, hands groping and clasping and mouths latching onto each other like there was no tomorrow. It was exactly what Wes needed, even if he’d never admit it—one night of wild abandon to cleanse himself of everything he’d been building up inside.

It wouldn’t last. It couldn’t. Travis wasn’t like that, Wes understood that from the conversation they’d had tonight, and Wes was…well, Wes wasn’t even sure where this was supposed to _go_. It was just release.

But it meant that he’d probably never see Travis after this, may not ever talk to him or text him again, and that thought make his heart clench. The thought of losing this connection with someone else hurt in a way he hadn’t felt since the divorce.

Wes closed his eyes and didn’t think about it, clinging to Travis all the tighter and letting their bodies wash away the fear.

\---

Travis was gone when he woke.

Wes stared at the other half of the bed, and the void beside him matched the void in his chest. He’d been expecting it, but at the same time…

“It doesn’t matter,” he told himself, sitting up. “He was just some guy.”

Except he wasn’t. He’d started out that way, a random stranger Wes was never going to meet, but over a week of texting and an amazing dinner full of conversation, Wes had found himself really liking Travis, and his company. Found himself possibly hoping for more, for the first time since the divorce.

He’d made an actual, genuine connection with someone, and it had nothing to do with sex. That hadn’t even been a consideration until the end. He’d gone and made a connection and hoped that maybe it would continue into the light of day, despite everything.

And then he woke up to an empty bed.

Wes sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. “You screwed up, Mitchell,” he scolded at himself, glaring at his jacket. It was draped across a chair with the phone hanging out of the pocket. God, what had gotten into him? He wasn’t the type to fall into bed with someone just because he had a decent conversation with them. He waited, took his time, so the fact that last night even _happened_ meant he was desperate or—

Wes wasn’t going to go into that _or_.

It didn’t make a difference anyway. Travis was gone, which clearly showed how _he_ felt on the matter, so Wes just had to put it out of his mind and move on.

Yeah. Right.

He ran his hands through his hair, turning regular old bedhead into an inconsolable mess. “It doesn’t matter,” he repeated, because if he said it enough then maybe it would come true. When he stood, he purposely didn’t look at his jacket, and he filled his mind with thoughts about his current caseload and the organic market down the street. Absolutely nothing about the man from last night.

He eventually emerged from the bathroom, showered and feeling—not much better, honestly, though feeling much more prepared to _deal_ with feeling like crap. He’d felt like this before, and he knew he could weather the storm. It’d be fine.

By the time he was dressed, he was ready to put last night behind him. He’d delete his text history, change his sheets, and forget about Travis. Easy enough.

Resolve set, he pulled his phone from his jacket and thumbed it on.

It buzzed in his hand.

Something painfully reminiscent of hope thudded in his chest. Holding his breath, he opened the text.

And he stared.

The text was a simple _Good morning_ , with a period at the end and everything. And it was from someone called ‘Stud’.

Now, Wes had done a lot of things this week that were very unlike himself, but he thought he would remember adding a contact and calling it _Stud_.

Torn between amusement and bafflement, Wes typed a text.

>>Stud?

>> _Short for ‘That Hot Stud I Met And Seduced On Valentine’s Day’._

>> _But that wouldn’t fit._

And despite the sinking feeling he’d been mired in a mere five minutes ago, Wes smiled at his phone.

>>I don’t remember doing a lot of seducing last night.

>> _That’s just cause you were so good at it, baby._

>> _But trust me on this. Seduction happened._

Well, that probably wasn’t true at all, because Wes knew himself and _seduction_ wasn’t exactly in his wheelhouse, but it was nice of Travis to say. He took his time constructing a reply.

>>I missed you this morning.

>>I thought we could get breakfast together.

And then he waited, expecting a rejection or an explanation. But Travis had texted him back, so maybe he didn’t have to anticipate rejection after all.

The texts came quickly, one after the other.

>> _Sorry I left, had to go to work. Cop’s job never ends._

>> _But I totally had a great time last night._

>> _Best date I’ve had in a while. No one tried to stab me, for one._

Wes bit his lip, ignoring the way his heart quickened as he read the words.

>>Does this mean you’d be willing to go out again?

There was no hesitation, no thinking about it. No sign that Travis was having any second or third thoughts.

>> _Absolutely._

>> _Give me a jingle when you’re free and I’m game._

>> _But not tonight, cause I gotta go to my mom’s._

Slowly, Wes allowed himself to smile. He confirmed that he would indeed contact Travis about the nights he was free, and they could plan accordingly. Then he changed Travis’s contact information, because there was no way he was going to have _Stud_ show up on his phone every time Travis contacted him. By the time he leaned back, he could hardly remember why he’d been so upset all week.

So maybe Valentine’s Day wasn’t all that bad.


End file.
